


Ho Voglia Di Te

by tadeudz



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Misha, Established Jensen Ackles/Misha Collins, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, M/M, Top Jensen, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:54:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2300528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadeudz/pseuds/tadeudz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the last day at Jus In Bello convention and Misha's worrying about where things between he and Jensen are heading. Jensen's been acting strange and aloof and Misha needs answers.<br/>Will their Roman love affair survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Meters Above The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by myself so all mistakes grammatically or otherwise are my own. If there are any kind people who like to beta fics, I'd gladly use your skills. Pretty sure I need them!  
> This is a WIP with the intention of updating on Saturdays. I'm going to try REALLY HARD to stick to that because I've got to get this out of my head. It's been bugging me for ages! DAMN THOSE COCKLES!
> 
> The pretentious title means 'I Want You' in Italian and comes from an Italian film of the same name, set in Rome. So now you know.  
> To Misha Collins & Jensen Ackles you have my deepest apologies. Actually, scratch that...you brought this on yourselves.  
> To everyone who reads this, thank you for taking the time out of your day. Means a lot to me.  
> Cheers!

It was a few minutes into the new dawn of Sunday morning and he guessed the temperature must have been hitting the low seventies. He’d started out from the hotel around 5am, when the sky was still at its darkest and despite the coolness of the early morning; he was already covered in a thin layer of perspiration. He swiped a rough hand over his brow, closing the beads of sweat in his fist, wiping them on his blue shorts and kept on running. The grey cobbles of Via Dell’Umiltá, uneven, broken and even missing in places, made his footing tricky but it was a challenge he relished. Used to running the slopes of Cahuenga Peak in LA and other rugged trails in Vancouver, Misha was an experienced hiker and runner. Running the streets of Rome was no more treacherous that the dry canyons back home but certainly just as challenging. His stride was even-paced and quiet, his shoulders low and relaxed he kept his head up and looked into the distance, tuning out to the song on his iPod. Upon spying the signpost for his destination, he dug deep into his energy reserves, accelerating his pace as he rounded the corner onto Piazza de Trevi, aiming for the fountain.

It was personal tradition that on the last morning of the Jus in Bello convention he would run under cover darkness until dawn’s rays washed over the Eternal City. He enjoyed the solitude of the morning run and basked in the majesty of Rome. Over the years he and the other cast members of Supernatural had come to hold the city and the convention close to their hearts. The convention was drawing to a close and he could feel the sadness creeping in. He, like the fans would be leaving tomorrow and he wanted to enjoy the last few quiet moments alone by the fountain, where many good memories of these past five years had been formed. He stopped running as he neared the edge of the low wall that enclosed the fountain perimeter and surveyed the breath-taking marble statues. He thumbed off his iPod and listened to the sound of the water as it trickled below. Catching his breath he listened as the sound of the running water echoed around him as the place was almost deserted. Usually the fountain attracted a number of tourists and was a throng of activity during the day. At just after six o’clock there were a few traders opening up their various shops but he was the only tourist amongst the natives.  
Misha jogged in place trying not to let his heart rate drop too suddenly and his muscles seize up. The sun was moving in among the narrow streets and birds chirped loudly overhead. His heart ached at the thought of not being back for another year. The sensation intensified when he thought it could well be the last time he saw Jensen until shooting resumed in July. The summer hiatus was going to be brutal knowing that he wouldn’t be seeing him for at least six weeks. He would have to make tonight count. He was going to make their last night in Rome really special.

Back at the hotel, Misha stripped his running gear off, tossing it on the bathroom floor and sighed deeply as he stepped into the shower. Sloughing the warm water over his face and hair, he mentally calculated that he would still have time to grab some breakfast and get dressed before their car service arrived to drive them out to the convention hotel. Scrubbing his face he tilted his chin towards the flow of water, hoping that this sense of gloom might swirl its way down the plughole along with it. This feeling of sadness was unusual for Misha but things between Jensen and he had cooled in recent months. Both of their schedules had been insane and their overlapping free time was becoming more and more elusive. Secretly Misha was starting to wonder if Jensen was pulling away intentionally. Their relationship was one that had started off slow, both of them too concerned with not making too many demands on each other. Misha had sensed Jensen’s reluctance to acknowledge his feelings early on and had vowed not to push him too hard. That’s how it had gone on for the last couple of years. Push, pull, acknowledge, deny. Acting the part in front of the fans and his family, Jensen thought he had everyone fooled. Misha being the exception, however. Jared might be his best friend but Misha knew Jensen infinitely more intimately. Their last night together had been great but the morning after Jensen had been rushed off by Clif to set for his last day of shooting. Misha’s coverage wasn’t until the following day so their goodbyes had been flustered kisses and pats on the shoulder. Even during the early conventions this season, they hadn’t had a chance to get some alone time. Too much was hanging on this Rome trip and Misha knew it. Maybe he was putting too much pressure on himself, on both of them? Sighing he turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself. No, I need this. Jensen needs this, he thought. I have one night to prove to Jensen how much I want him. This night was going to be important to both of them. 

It wasn’t just about the sex. Although that was pretty mind-blowing, he couldn’t deny it. Even the quick memory that flashes through his mind of their first encounter shot a bolt down his spine and he shivered despite the balmy Rome heat. His cock reacted to the sense memory, a shock of electricity pulsed from his balls into his stomach. Misha smiled as the memories came flooding back but he had no time to play them out while he jerked off. The sex was great but Misha knew there was more to their connection than that. And that was evident from how Jensen perked up the second Misha crashed his panel the day before. It was almost funny to see Grumpy!Jensen transform from playing the ‘dancing monkey’ to joking around and telling behind the scenes stories. The seriousness of the questions he’d been asked had started bringing the audience down but Misha knew his skill was to bring levity to the panels and soon the audience was laughing along with the two of them. Misha knew he’d struck gold when Jen threw back his head and bellowed out his trademark Unicorn laugh. Jensen’s eyes glistening with tears of laughter searing Misha’s heart with warmth. He loved him, no doubt about that and he’d never said it nor would he unless the time was right. He showed it countless times and mouthed the words over Jensen’s body in kisses upon his chest; silent and invisible but there nonetheless, he breathed his true feelings onto his skin cautiously hoping it was reciprocated. Fear of screwing things up had forced Misha to hold back. This wasn’t his usual way of dealing with things and he hated it. It was driving him crazy. 

Dressed in a cerulean blue jacket and dark jeans, Misha ventured downstairs to the hotel restaurant. He surveyed the room and saw Jared, right arm strapped up and wincing from his shoulder injury, with a fretful and guilt-ridden Osric fussing over him, fetching him juice and cereal.  
“Good Morning Master Chau!” he said, winking at Jared, palms together then bowing before slapping Osric gently on the back. “How are we all doing this morning?” Jared looked up and grinned through his teeth. “Fine.” He winced again.  
“Oh buddy, you really still hurting?” Misha’s concern was sincere but the smirk was there nonetheless. It wasn’t often Jared was on the receiving end of some teasing. Considering how many times he had pranked Misha, he was well over due for a few jokes.  
“Ah he’s just milking it for the attention now!” Jensen’s deep voice thundered behind him.  
“Fuck you Jay. It hurts okay?” Whined Jared, shifting his arm against his chest.  
“Oh poor baby! Do you have a booboo?” Jensen taunted, laughing. No sympathy from Jensen, clearly.  
“Dick.” Muttered Jared, ignoring the taunts and finishing his cereal.  
Jensen headed in the direction of the buffet and Misha started after him. In a softer voice, not quite a whisper he said “Hey Jen, can I have a word?” feeling slightly off kilter all of a sudden.  
“Yeah sure. What’s up?” Jensen replied, grabbing a croissant and some fresh fruit cocktail from the well-stocked buffet. “Want some?” He tilted the plate in Misha’s direction.  
“I’m good thanks. I’ll grab something in a sec. I really need to ask you something.” Misha didn’t feel like he stumbled very often but things had been so unsure between them for a while that he felt like an awkward teenager asking someone out on a first date. Hardly the case but for some reason he felt incredibly nervous around Jen this morning. Maybe it was the pressure, knowing it was the last day of the convention. Maybe it was the cologne Jensen wore. Maybe it was the fact that even slightly hung-over and jetlagged Jensen still looked incredibly hot. As a result Misha paused and took a moment to breathe. Not many people took his breath away like this.  
“Dude, what is it? I’m starving.” Jensen grumped, fondling the fruit while checking for ripeness.  
“What are you doing tonight? I know Jared is out of action and the other guys are heading off tomorrow fairly early. I would really love to spend the evening with you.” Seeing Jensen look at him Misha added..”I..I miss you Jen.” He felt slightly pathetic and lowered his gaze for a second. He didn’t see the bloom of a smile creep over Jensen’s face and had he, perhaps the nerves might have evaporated but it was gone again when Mark appeared next to them scratching his three days’ worth of stubble and complaining about the lack of a decent breakfast.  
“I just want some sodding toast and Marmite.” He grumped, looking at the two men. Their faces were blank. “Mar-what?” Jensen asked.  
“Oh, ignore me. Just being the Ugly Brit abroad that’s all. Raring to go today fellas?” He playfully slapped them on the shoulders. “I’m starting to lose the will to live with some of the banal questions but it’s been a laugh don’t you think?” he turned and waved to Tahmoh who was chatting to Jared and Osric. “He’s been bloody marvellous. Glad we had him on board for this one. Took some of the pressure off the rest of us old timers eh?” he grinned.  
“Speak for yourself Sheppard!” Misha ventured, playing along.  
“Oh yeah can’t forget you now can we? Misha, Misha, Misha!” he taunted, poking a finger in Misha’s ribs.  
“Jealous much?” Misha winked and turned his attention to the buffet. His stomach was growling now. Nothing had been confirmed but Jensen waited until Mark’s attention was elsewhere before turning to Misha and breathing a whisper in his ear. “After the closing ceremony, meet me back here. We’ll talk okay?” He smiled that trademark Ackles grin and grabbed some cutlery and strode off towards Jared’s table for another round of Tease the Moose.  
Misha was floored. Talk? What does that fucking mean? He thought to himself. He didn’t even want to think about what Jensen had meant. Either he was being paranoid or he felt it very likely meant that Jensen was going to end things between them. Maybe that’s why things had been so cool between them the last few cons. Perhaps he’d been trying to avoid it and now it was going to happen. He was going to get dumped. In Rome.  
Fuck.


	2. Tenderhooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final day of the convention in Rome and Misha is perplexed. Jensen is going about his day as if nothing is wrong. Is Misha being paranoid or is it just the fact they've been apart too long and are will they come back together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a day late, I'm sorry. I struggled with this. I think I need to be more disciplined with my writing schedule. Didn't help that I had a day out due to injury yesterday.   
> Anyway...I hope you enjoy it.  
> If I'm honest i could probably do with someone to beta for me.   
> Did i mention I was rusty?

__  
“Hurry up, Misha! For fuck’s sake man we’re going to be late.” Jensen barked as he opened the bathroom door, the cloud of steam immediately forcing his retreat.  
Misha poked his head out from behind the shower curtain and grinned.  
“You mean we’re going to get caught? Well now if that’s the case, let’s give them something worth seeing then!” Winking at Jensen, he curled a finger towards him, catching him in his invisible tractor beam. As Jensen drew closer Misha’s hands reached for his face and he pulled him in for a kiss. Despite them now being soaking wet, the kiss still managed to ignite a fire between them. Misha felt Jensen’s murmur of pleasure rumble through their contact. He didn’t want to let him go.  
“Clif’s gonna be here any minute..” Jensen whispered. The warm water running down his freckled face, beading on his eyelashes; he’d never looked so beautiful.  
“I expect he’ll be surprised to see you soaked through and kissing your co-star “ Misha said, his lips reluctantly leaving Jensen’s.” Um, also you might want to do something about that massive erection of yours.” He let out a throaty laugh, eyeing the bulge hungrily.  
“Oh shit!” Jensen groaned as he looked down; his erection jutting out obscenely through his sweatpants. “I need my jeans.” he said, attempting to manhandle his member into a semi-erect state. Misha licked his perfect pink lips. He wished they had more time. He would be on his knees with his lips around Jensen’s beautiful cock quicker than you could say ‘Season finale.’ Unfortunately, work came first. Misha second…he wasn’t needed on set today. He could spend a while longer in the shower and pleasure himself. Jensen’s current expression meant he was thinking the same thing.  
“See what you do to me?” Jensen said, a towel soaring towards Misha’s head as he ducked back behind the shower curtain.  
“I’m pleading the fifth!” he chuckled.  
“Don’t flood the bathroom if you’re staying in there to jerk off.” Jensen called from the bedroom. He was hastily pulling on a pair of jeans and swapping a dry t-shirt for the wet one, tossing it in the direction of the laundry basket.  
“Oh Jensen…?” Misha called from the shower.  
“What now?” Jensen grumped, smoothing his damp hair down.  
“Hey grumpy, I just want another kiss goodbye.” Misha said, Jensen appearing at the doorway again.  
“Don’t get me wet though. I just changed.”  
“C’mere sexy.” Misha cooed. Pushing back the shower curtain, the shower now turned off. He kissed him again, but this time it was softer, less rushed, less frenzied. Misha trying so hard to convey the words he longed to say. He sung a chorus of I love yous with that kiss. Jensen sighed and retreated once again.  
“I wish I didn’t have to go.”  
“I know. Me too.”  
“Take care. Have fun with the family.”  
“You too Jen. I’ll see you soon.”

“Hey, Earth to Misha! I said, did you want coffee?” a surly British voice asked impatiently.  
“What? Sorry, Mark, um. No, tea please.” Misha replied, wiping a hand over his mouth. Had he been drooling? Nope. Oh good. A feint smile crossed over his face at the now fading memory of that last hurried liaison. Weeks before Rome, during the final days of filming season eight. Now he wondered if they would ever be that close again. His heart ached at the thought that perhaps Jensen was backing off.  
“What’s up with you today? You’re miles away. And don’t blame it on jetlag. We’re all jetlagged.” Mark said, handing Misha the steaming cup of Earl Grey.  
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Misha smiled brightly, no hint of a disturbance across his face. Actors are so good at hiding the truth of their emotions. Staying in character for the rest of the convention was the only way he’d get through.  
“Hmmm.” Mark replied. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Mish.” He gave Misha’s shoulder a quick but sincere squeeze and left him to drink his tea. He wasn’t going to push and for that Misha was grateful. In the green room, he chatted to some of the volunteers and waited for his handlers to come and escort him through the throng of fans lining the hotel corridor. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his thoughts drifted back to his breakfast encounter with Jensen and those words that for some reason stung him to the core. But were they more than words? “We need to talk.” It could be work related, Misha considered. But then when did they really ever talk about work, just one on one? How about never? Unless Jensen was directing but then it was there on set, getting notes on a scene. Misha was being uncharacteristically gloomy and he needed to kick himself out of this mood. He was due to do photo ops with Jensen next and he had to get his game face on.  
“Hello Mr Collins, we need to go now.” Antonio, Misha’s security/handler, dressed in a black suit and tie, waited patiently. He was a serious chap, rarely smiled but was pleasant enough.  
Misha rose from his chair, placing his half-drunk tea cup on the table. “Ok Tony, lead the way”.  
In the photo op room Jensen leaned against a chair, causally chatting to the photographer and volunteers as they waited to get started. He smiled as Misha entered the room, a chorus of cheers and whooping following him in from the corridor beyond.  
“Hey Mish.” He said grabbing his shoulder tenderly. “Fought your way through my fans did you?” He joked.  
“Oh those were your fans? Oh right? I see!” he winked at Jensen and for a second there he thought he saw a glimmer of a blush cross his face.  
Maybe he was worrying over nothing. Perhaps talking things out was a good idea because Misha was getting more and more confused as the day went on. Jet lag brain didn’t help but Jensen was definitely giving him some mixed signals.  
“Are you ready, gentlemen?” The photographer asked, gesturing them to the taped off marks on the carpet.  
“Yep”, they both answered in unison.  
“Let’s do this!” Jensen said, rubbing his palms together. He grinned like a man concocting a cunning plan and it made Misha giggle and roll his eyes. He loved it when Jensen was in a playful mood. Though he was so different from how he’d been yesterday. I wonder if that was it? Had he been bummed out over something and wanted to share it with him? Maybe this was nothing to do with them at all. This thought made the knot in his stomach fade a little and Misha began to relax. As the fans poured in for their photo ops, they both seemed to be on form. Laughing and joking with the fans, each other, capturing ridiculous poses. All the tension seemed to fade away from Misha and he left the photo op room on a high. The security walked them both through the corridor and Jensen went ahead to get out of the crowd. Misha understood why. He however, decided to stop and greet a line of fans waiting for their autographs. Tony and some other black suited security looked a little frustrated so Misha kept it short, but getting up close to the fans so they could take some photos and say hello. He loved interacting with them on this level. He was humbled by them and their love for him made him want to return it tenfold.  
“Mr Collins we have to go now, please.” Tony urged.  
Silently Misha complied, and waved to the crowd before being lead back to the green room. He was hoping Jensen was still there when he returned but he’d gone. Misha felt the disappointment knot up again in his chest this time. His handler indicated he was due to start his autograph session. The work day wasn’t over yet. Talking will have to wait.


End file.
